


Seven-Twelve

by orphan_account



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-06 05:32:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14049990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: this is a prompt fueled collection of fics that thake place between my fic We'll Protect Each Other and Time To Protect.





	Seven-Twelve

**Author's Note:**

> Oooh can we have a scene between the five year period. For Evan's birthday can Connor paint Evan a picture of the two of them under a tree with a pie maybe? And can we see Evan's reaction to it please?!
> 
> Why yes, yes you can. Also, I want to apologize for how late this is. Many thanks to HeartBronze329 for suggesting this.

CONNOR PoV

Yet again it was THAT time of year. A few weeks after school and it was eating at me. Evan would be eleven in a week and a half. I swore that I wouldn’t make him another present. Not after Christmas. If Evan can forget that then I can forget his birthday. For once.

I rolled onto my stomach and turned the page in my sketchbook. I glanced at my pencils with their varying states of sharpness, grabbed the soft one I used to doodle, and began to draw.

\---

“Do you think he’ll like it better then his Christmas present Pa?” I asked as we walked into the post office.

Pa smiled down at me. “I think it’d be hard to top that. Wasn’t it a scrapbook of you two? But for what its worth, I do think he’ll love this.”

I flushed, glancing away. I adjusted the box under my arm. It held the framed and signed painting I had done of Evan and I laying under a tree, a half eaten pie at our feet.

I didn’t want to talk about how Evan forgot all about his gift when I asked him about it. “I think he’ll like it Pa,” I lied.

EVAN PoV

I sighed, pushing an ice cube out of the tray and placing it in the pot that held Connor’s bonsai. Lydia had said that it was time to plant it outside but I was reluctant to not have it in my room. 

It was the only thing I had from Connor after the school jerk Trent had found my scrapbook and destroyed it. It was my own fault, I just wanted for my friends to see Connor since they couldn’t meet him. I shouldn’t have left it when I went to help that girl with her books.

“Evan! There’s a package for you,” Lydia called.

I frowned and walked out to the living room with the ice tray. I knew it was my birthday but we had already celebrated since Grand-Mère and Grand-Père were away this week for their high school reunion. All of my presents should have arrived.

I furiously yanked out the hopeful notion that it could be… that it might be from Connor. He wouldn’t.

“Well, open it,” She said.

“Should I? Who’s it even from?” I asked, putting the tray down and kneeling next to the table where Lydia had placed the fair sized package.

Lydia shrugged and grabbed the tray to return it to the kitchen.

Tilting my head, I tried to make out the nearly illegible scrawl. 

CoNNOr.

I gasped. Did he really send me a gift after I pretended to forget about his gift? It wasn’t far from the truth after all. I had forgotten to keep it with me at all times. I should have been more careful.

Pulling out the knife Peter had given me for my birthday I easily sliced into the package.

I slowly opened the flaps, unsure if I really wanted to know what Connor had given me. Maybe this was all a joke. I glanced at where Connor had signed his name. No one else would know just how Connor rushed his n’s so that they looked like wavy scribbles more suited to m’s then n’s. 

This was Connor.

I opened the box and instantly wanted to cry.

I had known from t he few phone calls we had managed to make that Connor likes to draw and has been drawing for years but I hadn‘t realized how GOOD he was. He had captured us perfectly, lounging together under a large Pine. I let out a wet laugh when I saw the half left pie tin at our feet.

“Wow, did Connor draw that?” Lydia asked. “He’s amazing.”

Tears falling freely now I nodded in agreement. I was so lucky that it was just Lydia and I.

I ran my fingers gently over Connor’s art name.

I would treasure this forever. No one would take this from me. Not again.

“Lydia, can you help me hang this up?” I hesitated. “And I think I’m ready to plant my bonsai tree outside.”


End file.
